The wind blows across the plain, heavy, heavy are our chains, Sun, home, freedom - glowing dreams, but the foreign land - ice on the heart ...
Katja Spurova, Slovenia
Nature is silent, pre-thunderstorm sweltering. From the west flow deep, dark clouds. In the sky spring winds flow on each other, lurking fear in the heart. Longing ... Longing.
Grazyna Chrostowska, Poland
My little darling, today I have seen so much suffering, yes, so many sighs, that I wanted to forget for a moment and wrote this letter for you, which will never be sent...
Soon birds will chirp and sing beautiful songs. Oh little flowers, little birds! Where are you now, where is my dear hometown?
Katarina Niklavova, Slovenia
Certainly, you poeticize me from afar, you still see me in the bloom of spring, you don't know yet, my love, that I have now I have gray hair at the temples.
My soft pink cotton flakes and graceful white clouds, what stories you told me during the roll call in the camp... [...] But in this penitentiary, where my pain roars in hopelessness, Cloud, you were my light, in your sky I saw France.
Charlotte Serre, France
Somewhere You rest Transfigured in wisdom, protected by beauty. You dream - Far from the earth Of burning reality - On which mankind in agonizing struggle Goes towards a more beautiful future.